


Reach

by ForensicSpider98



Series: Love After the Fact [63]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, All this stress is bad for the baby, Altean Adam (Voltron), Altean Prince Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Balmeran Hunk (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Galra Shiro (Voltron), Galran Prince Keith (Voltron), Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Olkari Pidge | Katie Holt, Post-War, it's keith. keith is the baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26118865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForensicSpider98/pseuds/ForensicSpider98
Summary: Lance, Keith, and their friends have a brief but violent encounter with Daibazaal's top predator.Trigger Warnings:-Blood/Gore-DeathBEHOLD, THERE IS ART: https://emotionalklance-stipation.tumblr.com/post/627486741490728960/love-after-the-fact-art
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Alfor/Coran (Voltron), Allura/Lotor/Romelle (Voltron), Haggar/Zarkon (Voltron), Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Love After the Fact [63]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635043
Comments: 34
Kudos: 185





	Reach

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my @voidstar_art (instagram) for the badass art he did for this chapter! Let me know what you think!

Lance isn’t sure exactly when it happens, but at some point, a few small amphorae start making their way around the table, and he starts to feel a little warm. One, he can tell, is a sweet, moist wine with a spice to it. It’s delightful, as is a much harsher liquor with a strong floral taste to it. 

Unlike at the Frost Ball, Keith, while not quite sober, certainly isn’t drunk. He’s just a little more talkative, a little louder, a little more expressive with his hands, his ears, his face. His tail stays stubbornly wrapped around some part of Lance. The Altean is beginning to think it’s both a source of comfort and support, but also a bit possessive. He doesn’t particularly mind. He likes the idea that Keith’s proud to be with him, instead of uncomfortable or ashamed.

Everyone is slowly coming down from hysterics, still giggling at the awful cutscenes from Phantasm Killbot. Keith had been fascinated by the video game, having never really seen one before. He wasn’t very good at them, but improved a lot at the combat sections over the course of his playthrough with Pidge and Lotor.

“So, Keith,” Pidge begins, still giggling in Lance’s lap. “Did they get your bits right?”

“No. I don't have a red rocket.” Everyone laughs. “I'm a biped, for fuck's sake!” The laughter heightens, Keith grinning from where he’s still leaning against Lance’s side. “Also, I have eight nipples, not three.”

“If it makes you feel better, they didn’t get mine right, either,” Lance laughs. “I’m bigger than that.”

“Like hell you are,” Keith mutters.

“Don’t believe me? I can prove it to you.” Lance pretends to start untying his pants.

“Ew, no!" Pidge shrieks, covering their eyes. “Besides, Adam already told us!”

Lance’s hands freeze. “Adam  _ told _ you?” He scowls, sighs. “Ah well. I have bigger problems. Judging by this, I am perceived as a cold, heartless, sociopath with a trophy husband whom I keep as a pet, along with the rest of my sizable harem. Go me.”

“Listen, listen.” Keith prods his chosen mate’s arm repeatedly, eager to make him smile, get his attention. “I don’t care what those fucks say about you. You are amazing, and beautiful, and every time I see your stupid face, it makes me smile.”

Lance bites back a laugh, though it shines in his eyes and scales. “Thank you, beloved.  _ You _ are talented, and stubborn, and every time I see you _gorgeous_ face, it makes me smile, too.”

“What the fuck, Lance! You can’t steal my thing!” Everyone’s laughing, watching the young princes’ antics, teasing in their periphery. 

“But it’s true! I love seeing your face. I’ll go track you down even when I’m supposed to be working just so I can see you.”

“Hm… Well, okay, but I would have expected you to be a bit more creative with you compliments, to be honest.”

“Wow. Tipsy you is  _ merciless _ . I was not expecting to be annihilated in a single conversation.”

Lotor laughs, smirks at the two of them. “He gets it from his mother. She’s surprisingly… articulate.”

“Mnh, I dunno.” Pidge watches the couple closely. “I think Keith has his own, natural-born talent for it.”

“I have a natural talent for many things,” Keith declares, nibbling on some food. “But I’d never be mean about it. I just wanna make you laugh.”

“Aw, beloved! Quiznak, we need to drink together more often. All these cute little secrets-”

“I knowwwwww! I forgot how to shut up! I hate it!”

Lance grins, slips a bit of quintessence into Keith’s veins to take some of the edge off. He’s never really felt like this before, felt safe to be himself in company, safe to laugh, and goof off, and be physically affectionate with his spouse.

The last time he and Keith drank together, Lance only responded to Keith’s behavior. His people approved of his kindness for not scolding his spouse in public, but would never approve of this, of the way they lean against each other, touch each other, kiss each other. 

This time spent on Daibazaal, where touch is more powerful than words, has him wondering if he’s the only Altean that misses their spouse while standing right next to them.

“Lance? You okay?”

“Yeah… I’m going to miss this when I go home. Being with you like this.” He tips their heads together. “I’d lose their respect in a heartbeat back home.”

“Hm.” Keith rubs his cheek against Lance’s shoulder, working his scent beneath the clothes and into the Altean’s skin. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we-”

A horrific shriek cuts through the night, through their evening.

Keith’s interrupted by screams, shouts from outside. A crash of metal against stone, something falling over and tumbling over the street. Lance hears an unearthly shriek, sees the way the people around him tense, get to their feet. They draw their weapons. Lance follows Keith’s lead, rising to stand beside his spouse. 

"A kronil..." Lotor takes charge. “Pidge, Ilun, stay here. Thace, get your kits. Everyone else… Arm yourselves and come with me. Lance, take Ilun’s bow.”

Lance already has Ilun’s bow, an arrow nocked and ready. More shrieks, but the screams have died down. Instead, elk are grunting anxiously, wolves growling and snarling. Mashan comes in, her younger siblings in tow. They’re immediately beset by Thace and Ulaz, checking over their kits for wounds and such.

“Daddy,” Mashan squeaks. “There’s- It’s outside.”

“We know, kitten. Stay here with Ilun and Pidge, okay?” Ulaz turns to his mate. “You stay too. You’re needed.”

Thace nods, not even arguing as he attempts to soothe his children. Lance follows the other Galra into the abandoned square. The citizens, including the hunters, have retreated indoors, apparently unwilling to face whatever made that awful shriek. The night air crackles, the hunting party’s animals are tense, nervous. Wolves taking a protective stance over their cubs, elk dancing where they’re tied for the night.

Keith presses up against his back, and Lance can feel him trembling. As if the restless tension isn’t enough to clue him in, the realization that Keith, fearless, semi-feral warrior prince who lifts grown Alteans off their feet and throws people across training yards, is  _ scared _ .

Out of the corner of his eye, Lance sees a large shadow leap from the top of one den to another. Turning, he sees another shadow on his other side. There’s two, whatever they are. One lunges at a nearby elk, long fingers and arms diving down the animals throat, pulling its organs through its mouth. To say a chill courses through Lance’s veins would be an understatement. He understands the fear of the seasoned warriors around him. Noting that ends life in such a horrific way could be anything other than terrifying.

His heart is throbbing in his chest, but his hands remain steady. This is why these things are here. They followed the scent of food.

“Lance, stay close to me.”

“I will. I’ve got your back, beloved. I’ve got this.” He’s relieved when Keith doesn’t voice any doubts. 

Granted, Keith doesn’t have time to voice anything before one of the creatures lands right in front of Lance. It’s  _ horrifying _ . A long, thick tail; loose, hanging skin; four, bloody, long-fingered limbs; a dozen or so eyes swaying on stalks, turning in every direction- it doesn’t have a blind spot. It’s face is a collection of small, armored plates surrounding a beak dripping with blood. 

The kronil lunges, long-fingered hands reaching for him. Lance ducks out of the way just in time, pulling Keith with him. In his peripheral vision, Lotor, Vrek, and Ulaz are engaging the other beast. No one else is around. They’re all hidden in their homes.

The kronil’s blood-slicked fingers miss Keith’s face by inches. If Lance hadn’t pulled him out of the way… Not something the prince wants to think about. Keith twists, swiping at the animal, but it dodges again, letting out a enrages scream, like daggers scraping down a pane of glass.

As the beast turns back to them again, Keith facing off this time, Lance realizes that this could be a problem. Keith has a sword, not a bow. The kronil’s vicious hands will reach him before he can deliver a killing blow.

“Keith?”

“Yeah?” The animal circles them, trying to find an opening where there’s not a weapon in the way. 

“I know you think I’m a bad fighter, but I want you to stay at my back and I’m gonna square off, okay?”

“Okay.”

Lance finds himself facing the kronil, staring it down. He has two choices, keep his bow ready and wait for the beast to finally make a move, hoping he can kill it before it reaches him, or he can try shooting it from here and risking it dodging, leaving him slow to defend himself.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to shoot at it. It’s going to lunge for me, you come in from the side and slice its hands off. Then, we kill it.”

“Sounds good. Do it.”

Lance considers the circling beast, eyeing the long fingers that wanted to reach down his throat and pull his insides to the outside. If he shoots at its hands, he could still get a beak to the throat. What he needs to do is slow it down. What he needs to do is… 

He spies the primary eye that the kronil is using to watch them. It’s larger than the others, swaying, hovering as it moves with them. Decision made, Lance fires, arrow slicing cleanly through the eye. The animal shrieks, shaking its head. Enraged, it leaps at the couple, Keith leaping to the side, sword slicing up through the animal’s arms as Lance dodges its sharp beak, firing another arrow into the side of its head, missing Keith’s cheek by a finger’s width. Keith's sword plunges through the top of its armored head, and blood splatters over both of them, slick and warm

On the opposite side of the square, Lotor’s on the other, larger kronil’s back, twisting it into the beast’s heart. Seeing the fight is over, Lance turns to Keith just in time for the young Galra to pull him into an embrace.

“Hey, beloved. I’m alright. I’m alright.” He squeezes his spouse back regardless. “You’re not hurt at all, are you?”

“No, I-”

“Help! I need some help!”

Lance and Keith take off, trusting the others to secure the area. It’s another hunter, inspecting a glassy-eyed she-wolf, her belly ripped open, blood and milk pooling beneath her. Around her, a litter of cubs, dead.

Keith tugs frantically on Lance’s arm. “Fix it. You can fix her!”

“No,” Lance murmurs. “I can’t.”

“Why not?!” The hunter demands, purple fingers digging into their palms, claws shedding their blood. Keith whimpers, tugging at his clothes. Galra filtering into the square seem equally distraught.

“She’s in shock,” Lance explains, kneeling in the wolf’s puddle, laying a hand on her head. He closes his eyes, threading quintessence through her fading body. “Even if I could fix her, she wouldn’t live. Rapid healing is traumatic, and she can’t handle it… I’m sorry-”

Lance’s eyes flutter, quintessence pooling, glowing beneath his lids, beneath his scales. His pointed ears twitch, mouth curving into a deeper frown. “There’s…” His glowing eyes open, and he reaches beneath the she-wolf, pulling out a small, bloodied cub, stirring weakly in his hand. “Oh, you good mama,” Lance breathes, running a sticky, wet hand over her fur. “You did such a good job.”

Quite suddenly desperate, Lance sets the weak, bleeding pup down in front of the she-wolf’s nose, hoping it stirs something in her. It doesn’t. His heart drops, even in the fact of something he already knew was inevitable. 

Life is hard without a mother.

“I’m so sorry, mama. You tried so hard.” Lance lifts his gaze to the heart-broken hunter, still cradling their wolf’s head in their lap. “There’s nothing I can do for her, but I can honor her sacrifice. I can take what’s left of her, and use it to save her cub.”

The hunter nods. “If you can do something, do it.”

Lance nods, draws in a shuddering breath.

“She’s not in pain. She’s too much in shock to feel anything. This will be easy for her. And kind,” Lance promises. 

The hunter bows his head, grieving for the loss of their loyal friend.

Summoning his courage, Lance closes his eyes again, drawing his quintessence to tips of his fingers. Keith’s kneeling just behind him, cheek pressed in between his shoulder blades. Realizing just how affected his spouse is, Lance senses the gravity of this animal’s death, the importance her life held for the people.

Drawing on his love for the man at his back, Lance siphons the last of the she-wolf’s energy, threading it into the cub in his hand. When the mother’s life is depleted, he cradles the cub to his chest, sewing his small, damaged body back together as slowly, gently, and carefully as he can.

Lance only heals the cub to the point that it’s out of danger. Once its life is no longer in question, he hands it to the hunter. “He will need splints on his hind legs, and should be confined to a very small, soft space for the night. I can finish healing him tomorrow, when he’s recovered more.”

The hunter nods, carries the cub inside. A pair of hunters lift the she-wolf’s body, carrying her way. Lance turns to Keith, smiling wanly. “Thank you for your help, beloved.”

Keith shakes his head, presses their foreheads together, thumbs brushing over scales. “You have no idea what you just did, but you did it, and I love you for that. That, and so many other things.”

“I love you too, beloved.” Lance tips his head to kiss Keith’s lips. “Come on. We should go home and clean up. We’re all bloodied.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we should.”

Lance doesn’t miss an unfamiliar glow in Keith’s eyes, nor the way the Galra takes his hand first, before Lance has even offered it. Instead of mentioning it, he lets Keith’s tail wrap around his ankle, keeping close against the cold of night as they check on everyone before parting ways.

Daibazaal is dangerous, but he’s never been in safer hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Next time on Love After the Fact: Lance and Keith share a powerful moment.


End file.
